The Black Book
by Shenko007
Summary: A collection of slashy one-shots that involves various pairings like Alistair/M! Cousland and Anders/M!Hawke as well as rare pairings such as Duncan/Cailan. Requests will be considered upon reviews! Happy reading!
1. Chapter 1

**BLACK BOOK**

**A/N: **This is mainly dedicated to Aki and YoshisSupport, who have consistently reviewed my _Wolf of Highever_ story from the beginning and now. It is also dedicated to all those DA fans who just want good smutty chapters that are slashy one-shots (male x male). BLACK BOOK will be a collection of one-shots for pairings of our favourite heroes.

Warning: MxM! Explicit scenes! Starts out angsty but it gets better.

Summary: M! Mahariel x Alistair; One-shot

_I never realized how much you loved me, how much you sacrificed for my happiness,until now..._

**Chapter 1: Maker's Reward**

The Archdemon was gone and Alistair couldn't believe how fast that moment had gone, how everything they had done seemed to converge unto this one still moment. When he next opened his eyes, he found the dragon lying motionless, its huge mass still intimidating even in death. His heart pounded as there was another motionless figure, someone he most sorely wished not to see in such a state.

Suddenly everything silenced around him, everything except the pounding of his heart. _No! _He hastily scrambled to his feet and ran forward. In his haste, he did not see an outstretched arm and his feet tripped over the broken limb, causing him to stumble and then land right next to the still figure.

Gasping as that stumble seemed to take all the energy out of him, he lifted his head and gasped out Theron's name. His hands shook as they reached out for the bloody face and he gathered his lover into his arms, his entire body trembling as Theron's body merely rolled unto his forearm, the head lolling lifelessly into his shoulder. Blank eyes stared upwards, unheeding of the tears that had appeared in Alistair's eyes and which were now falling unto Theron's own.

"T-T-Theron! Please! Theron?" He cupped his lover's cheek, startled at how still the elf was. Maybe there was life in there, after all.

He gently shook Theron's body, silently pleading for those blank eyes to regain their focus. However, those eyes continued to stare at him and Alistair saw his reflection in those beautiful green orbs. Not even death robbed them of their beauty.

A gentle hand clasped his left shoulder and Wynne was kneeling next to him, the old woman breathing heavily from the battle that had finally ended. Next to her stood Zevran, who appeared withdrawn himself, as if accusing himself for having listened to Theron's last request.

Wynne placed her weathered hands on Theron's body and she closed her eyes only to open them again. Alistair stared at her intently and what hope he had for Theron's survival were immediately dashed at her head shaking sadly.

"He's gone. Why? Why didn't you let me do it?" Alistair cried out at Theron. Memories spurted forth and the scene briefly changed to that of the week ago, after their victory at the Landsmeet and after meeting up with Arl Eamon at Redcliffe Castle.

-o0o-

They had just finished off a full platoon of darkspawn that had ambushed them on their way back from Redcliffe. The night was late and everyone was exhausted from the week's busy schedule. The Landsmeet was a tremendous success but the joys of their victory were smothered by the threat of the Archdemon and the Darkspawn horde. Everyday, the hordes edged closer and closer to Denerim. They had already overtaken Lothering and the surrounding towns; nothing survived their slaughter and their Taint.

However, Theron managed to cheer everybody's spirits by camping that one final time and he surprised everyone with his special gift-giving.

To the dwarves, he gave them a large sum of money. Alistair still wondered where on Thedas he managed to get that much money.

To Leliana, Marjolaine's bow but improved with enchantment of increased rapid shot and tipped with a special Crow's poison.

To Morrigan, he gifted her with a special statue of a goddess that his own race worshipped, the Goddess of Nature.

To Zevran, he gave him his mother's old Dalish gloves and Antivan boots.

To Sten, a small painting of a large oak tree, one that resembled the Ancient Tree found in Par Vollen.

And finally, to Alistair, his best friend and his lover, he gave him a small pendant with a lock of his hair kept within.

"When you need me, look on this and remember us," the elf whispered to him in a strangely sad tone. At that time, Alistair should have known the elf was up to no good. He should have known that Theron was asking Zevran to watch out for him, to make sure he stays back for his last stand with the Archdemon. However, he was caught in the heat of moment and all he could think of was how Theron's love shone for him.

Everyone had eventually settled for the night and none commented on how Alistair went to Theron's tent and never came out until the next morning. The party members were already used to the idea of their two Wardens coupling.

As soon as Alistair stepped into the tent, he felt a tingling sensation and knew that a silencing spell was erected upon his entrance. Apparently, Wynne expected them to be loud tonight.

A small hand grasped his and he saw that Theron had already undressed. Only a single candlelight shone in the tent and Theron's naked form looked absolutely magnificent. The shadows cloaked a part of him while the light showed his lovely face.

"Alistair," Theron whispered seductively to him and Alistair pulled his lover towards him, only to clash their lips together violently. Teeth clacked briefly before tongues swept in and explored hot caverns.

Even through his armor and groin plate, Alistair could feel Theron's shaft nudging him on the inside of his thigh. His lover's heart beats thrummed into his skin, as if he too was sharing that same heart.

Unlike most nights, where the pace was somewhat rough and quick, Theron took his time undressing Alistair. It almost seemed as if he was relishing in this moment, as if it was their last night together or something.

When Alistair was finally naked, Theron took his hand and as he laid on his back on the blanket that was set out for this purpose, Alistair willingly went down with him.

They kissed each other, languidly, slowly but nonetheless still passionate. Large hands caressed Theron's shoulders, massaging the deltoids and traveling downwards to grip those muscular buttocks. Theron moaned into Alistair's mouth as a finger teased his entrance lightly, promising the elf of what's to come.

Once Theron started to shiver in anticipation, Alistair let his mouth trail a hot, teasing path from the bottom of the elf's jaw all the way down to the navel. Along the way, he bit and nipped at a pair of small but cute male nipples. Theron's gasps made Alistair groan as those salacious sounds caused his own arousal to jerk upwards and twitch.

Once satisfied with his teasing, he went further down south and dipped his tongue into the navel, making suggestive movements with it. Then, wasting no time at all, he licked the underside of the dripping erection before taking Theron in his mouth.

"Alistair!" Theron clutched at his lover's shoulders and he arched his back as he was swallowed whole. His hips were held down in a steely grip but his back still arched and he threw his head back, emitting wanton cries.

Alistair growled at that debauched sight of his lover moving against him and he continued sucking on him, each movement taking his lover deeper and deeper until Alistair was deep-throating him. Theron's gasps turned into guttural moans and his thighs trembled as hands pulled them forwards. His lover shifted forward, using his full weight to hold him down.

Alistair winced as fingernails dug into his shoulder muscles but he continued teasing his lover. He wouldn't miss this one out for Thedas. He alternated sucking and licking the shaft until his lover shuddered. Knowing that Theron was close, he pushed in an index finger and sucked hard all at the same time.

"A-Alistair!" Theron shrieked above him and his lover climaxed, the hot seed flowing out of Theron's member and down his throat. Having done this before, he managed to swallow all of his lover's essence without trouble. Not one drip was spared.

He wanted to tease his lover more but a hand insistently pulled at his hair. He looked up and found his lover giving him that _look_, the one that said 'take me now.'

His head shook ruefully but this night was theirs and for some odd reason, he wanted it to be special.

Thus, he rose up from his position and kissed his lover, liking how Theron's eyes widened initially when he was tasting himself before lowering to half-mast.

Theron's own hands were playful and they pinched at his own nipples, causing him to groan. Then his lover pulled at them and rolled them between his slender fingers. Theron knew how to touch him and from their previous engagements, Alistair found himself liking a little bit of pain to accentuate the pleasure.

A hand had sneaked its way downwards, to where their members were trapped between their bellies and were currently frotting against each other. It clasped them together and both men moaned at how Theron's hand tightened at the heads. The sparks of passion soon turned into an overwhelming barrage of intense pleasure as they moved against each other. Soft cries and low guttural moans were released into the night as their loving intensified and Alistair kissed Theron, swallowing their moans as they came together, the warmth splattering all over their bellies and chests.

"Please," Theron pleaded to Alistair in a soft, almost desperate tone. "I need you,"

"I love you, Theron Mahariel," Alistair replied back and kisses were planted on each of Theron's cheeks. He bit at his neck, trying to distract the elf from the eventual pain of penetration as he pushed in a finger, astonished to find him so loose already. Of course, with the two orgasms, he should be relaxed, Alistair thought smugly. Another finger joined in, playing inside of Theron, trying to reach for that sweet spot. The older Warden knew he found it when another shriek was emitted and before Theron could beg him to take him, he knelt back on his heels. Guiding himself to his lover's entrance, he slowly pushed him in, an inch at a time until he was finally all the way.

"Maker," Alistair breathed out; his lover clenched tightly around him. No matter how many times they've done this, he could never get used to this sensation of being inside that wet heat. "Theron,"

"Alistair, move! Please, by the Gods and Goddesses, move!" Theron's breathless plea did not fall on deaf ears and Alistair pulled out only to push back in, prompting another low moan. He repeated his thrusting movement until he had his lover screaming his name out. He bent forward, letting his lover move his legs outward and hook around his waist, causing him to go deeper and hit his prostrate gland at a different angle.

Alistair's own arms hooked underneath the elf's armpits and pushed in again. When Theron's shrieks and cries continued, they pulled at his heart and he found himself pounding into his lover. Before he could stop himself, as if he wanted to, the burn of his second climax rushed through him and it seared the both of them. Theron's muscles suddenly tightened around him and they simultaneously cried out each other's name, not caring if everybody in the camp heard them or not.

Alistair collapsed to the side of his lover, not wanting to crush his smaller form with his huge frame. He immediately brought his lover close to him and he took the blanket from the bed to cover their cooling bodies, knowing that they would both get cold soon.

"What brought that on," Alistair murmured, his lips brushing against the red strands.

Theron shifted, nuzzling into Alistair's throat and delighting in the warmth. "Soon, we have to fight the Archdemon in Denerim. This may be our last night together."

Alistair's hold on Theron suddenly grew tighter, almost to the point of crushing the poor elf to his chest. When there was a pained gasp, he relaxed his hold but hooked a finger underneath Theron's chin, making the elf look at him with his eyes, which never told a lie.

"We survived all this," Alistair said firmly to his red-haired beauty. "We _will _survive whatever tomorrow brings us. I believe the Maker rewards those who do good deeds."

Theron didn't argue back. Instead he merely shuffled impossibly closer to his lover, murmuring three important words to Alistair before falling asleep.

-o0o-

"Alistair! Look!" It wasn't Theron's voice that cried out to him, breaking him out of his reverie. The voice was too high-pitched, too experienced. His eyes snapped open only to find green orbs staring back at him, not lifelessly as they were, but owlishly and dazed.

"M-Maker! How?"

"I...I'm...not...sure..." Theron's voice was hoarse, as if he was crying out all night. He tried to get up but flopped back into his lover's arms, still weak from his fight.

"Theron? Is...but...you were dead! Even Wynne thought so!" Alistair cried out. It was impossible! This couldn't be happening. Only blood magic was able to bring people back, but Theron didn't look like he was resurrected by evil magic.

"I guess the Maker rewards those who do good deeds." Alistair gasped at how Theron threw back his own words from that memorable night. Then he smiled and gently kissed his lover on the now warm forehead.

"Thank the Maker!" Alistair whispered and their group of friends smiled upon them. Even Morrigan was smiling as she watched from a distance, although she was perplexed at this causality. Theron never took her offer that night but apparently, this elf was destined to bring a change to the world, whether he was living or dead.

Alistair didn't care for that. All he cared about was the possibility of being with his lover until their Calling had turned very real and he would relish every moment of it until the day he dies.

-o0o-

A/N: Well, what do you think? I will take requests, on the condition that they're not rape. So if you want to see a pairing, review and tell me!


	2. Consequences of Disobedience

_This is your punishment, Alistair, for disobeying my orders. _

**Chapter 2: Consequences of Disobedience**

It was a simple mission, really. Just head into the Brecilian Forest and convince the werewolves to not attack his own people. However, like all things, it was easier said than done and Theron knew that the Gods were testing him and laughing at him at the same time when a tree, of all things, started to attack him.

At first it utterly surprised him that a tree could move, as if it had legs to walk on. However, its aggression soon called forth his own and Theron was ultimately pissed that a damned tree was going to attack them.

"Battle formations, everyone!" He shouted as he withdrew his own twin daggers.

He swiftly ducked underneath a branch that swiped at him and blocked another incoming strike with his weapons.

He fully trusted his group of friends to watch his back.

Both Wynne and Morrigan were further out of reach, providing much needed support with their spells. Wynne, the wise healer, ensured that their warriors were full on their stamina levels, thus allowing them to attack to their fullest capability. Morrigan, the mysterious Witch of the Wild, launched offensive magic at their enemy. The elements of fire burned the tree and in its throes of agony, it had called out to its friends.

Now, the foursome, instead of facing just one rabid tree, now confronted three of them.

"Geez, can't trees just sit still or something?" A voice barked out in a joking manner.

"Focus on the fight, Alistair, and joke later," Theron replied as he parried another blow that would have taken his head off.

Alistair gave him a smirk. The boyish grin made the elf roll his eyes but he was pleased to know that Alistair wasn't injured enough to joke around.

Unfortunately, that was not meant to be and Theron cursed not at the Gods that had forsaken him and his people but at his own friend and lover. He cursed at the plain stupidity, the thoughtful move that now had his friend crumbled at his feet, his side bleeding profusely.

The battle was over as soon as Alistair went down, taking in the last blow from a dying tree for himself instead of the unknowing Theron. The fear for their friend prompted quicker, deadlier movements. Morrigan shouted over the others to clear away to allow her cast an area of effect spell. Theron, stronger than most elves, shouldered his friend and he grunted underneath the added weight of Alistair as well as his lover's armor and weapons. _He's already heavy enough without all these things!_

Wynne had already ran past them and Morrigan's spell burst into being as soon as the last pair made it out safely. Their enemies screamed in agony as the flames licked up their torso and spread throughout their branches. The smell of burning wood made everybody's noses wrinkle in disgust for instead of smelling sweet and woodsy, the rabid trees produced a bitter tang that left an odd aftertaste in their mouths. It reminded Theron of decaying bodies that had been left out in the sun for too long.

A strangled moan thankfully shifted his attention from the malodorous scent of dead trees to the one hanging over his shoulder. The elf could literally feel his lover's life essence seeping from the side wound unto his shoulder.

Wynne placed a tender hand on Alistair's back and her gray eyes told Theron all that he already knew.

"We go back to the Dalish Camp. It's not too far from here and this place is too dangerous for us to settle here," Theron suggested. Alistair's body began to slide off the elf's shoulder and the elf gently shifted him back to its original place, prompting another soft moan from the injured man.

"Let me stop the worst of the bleeding at least," Wynne said and Theron nodded his approval. She placed both hands on the wound and Theron could see the old woman grimace slightly at the contact of blood. However, she quickly overrode her sensitivity to blood and, with her eyes closed, began to focus on bringing up the healing part of magic.

The elf himself felt a comfortable warmth spreading out from her fingertips, her palm, and into Alistair himself. From what mana she had leftover, she was only able to stop the bleeding momentarily. She didn't have enough to fully close the wound or to heal other bumps and bruises Alistair had conceived during the battle.

After a few minutes, she opened her eyes and let out a panting gasp. Theron's eyebrows quirked upwards. He really did not want an injured healer on his hands on top of an injured lover.

"I'm alright. Just give me a second." Wynne rummaged through one of the packs she had on her during the fight and Theron almost had to bite back a disgusted moan as he saw her down the vial of lyrium. The lyrium had an instant effect on her and her face, once pale from mana depletion, now had some colour to them.

"Let's go or we would be eaten by other moronic trees here," Morrigan said and the pair looked up to find the witch, only to see that she had already walked far ahead of them. They heard other noises and quickly ran back to the Dalish camp.

-o0o-

Alistair's eyes fluttered open and the man let out a low moan of pain as he tried to shift his arm, which grew uncomfortable underneath some weight. When his vision cleared, he saw that there was a mop of dark brown hair lying over his forearm and soft, warm breaths tickled the tiny hairs on his arm.

Something moved in the far corner of his eye and Alistair jerked instinctively, wanting to protect him and his lover. That resulted in a shooting pain in his side and the man panted, his head falling back unto a pillow.

"I would say I wouldn't do that, but it seems you've thought better of it," a feminine voice called sarcastically.

"Lovely...to...see you too, Morrigan," Alistair coughed out and his eyes shut closed as more pain jabbed at him again.

Morrigan took pity on him and she knelt at his side, opposite of the sleeping Theron. She took another vial of a health poultice and uncorked the top. Then, the thick red syrup were poured into the man's mouth and the coughing phase passed quickly enough for her. She became pleased at the sight of the man's cheeks colouring and the ease of his breathing.

All the jostling and muttering eventually woke up the slumbering elf. Theron thought he heard Alistair's voice mumbling but had initially brushed it off as feverish mumblings. When Morrigan's voice continued its melody, the elf theorized that perhaps Alistair was really awake. Also, with the way they were talking and how loud they were also made it impossible for him to continue sleeping as well.

His eyes blinked furiously in order to bring Alistair's face and he couldn't help but be concerned at the paleness of Alistair's face. Even after two days of being unconscious, his lover still looked the part of a corpse.

However, if he and Morrigan were bantering again, then it must mean that his lover was on the mend and Theron had a devilish idea in mind on how to take advantage of his current weakness.

"Theron, perhaps you would care to explain your mischievous smile," Morrigan said pointedly. She crossed her arms underneath her plentiful bosom. Theron could have sworn that she read his mind for she gave him a leery grin and promptly left the tent without saying another word. However, as she left, the air grew dense and almost suffocating until finally returning back to its normalcy.

"Theron?" Alistair's voice brought his attention back to the convalescing young man and what perverse thoughts had been present in the elf's face quickly disappeared when he took in Alistair's almost white features and rapid, uneven breathing.

The elf frowned then and he placed a hand on the man's forehead. It was cool and thus, Alistair's fever must have broken during the night. Perhaps his plans for his lover should wait until he didn't sound like he was hyperventilating from every move. Then again, his lover does need to be punished for his idiotic stunt earlier.

"Are you well," was all Theron could ask him. The anger simmered below and the elf knew that if he said anything more than those three words, they would both regret it.

"Yep," Alistair winced at his answer. He gingerly touched his bandaged side and Theron grabbed it in his hand. "I'm ok, really."

"No, you're not," Theron replied darkly and the husky voice caused shivers to run down the man's spine. That sort of pain was good, almost welcoming.

"Something's wrong," Alistair didn't attempt to withdraw his hand from the elf's tightening grip.

"You is what's wrong. Always doing something stupid to save me." Alistair gulped as Theron leaned over him, their lips just centimeters away from each other.

"What-what do you expect me to do? Just stand by while you get hit when I could have done something about it?" The arousal that was initiated by Theron's nearness evaporated in the elf's tone. Anger swelled in Alistair's being and he pushed at the elf, only to find that he couldn't. In his weakened state, he could barely budge the elf off and Theron smiled at the hands vainly pushing him back but to no avail.

"I was just going to tie your hands, but it seems you're too weak to do anything." The elf's tone was just a little bit hurtful but the man knew that his lover truly was worried about him and the only way he could convey it was through anger somehow, anger that resulted in him being on all fours and driven crazy with pleasure.

Theron's dark eyes smoldered at how Alistair trembled beneath him and he bent forward, taking care not to place his full weight on top of the man. There was a stifled moan as the man's lips were captured rather forcefully by the elf's own. Hands that were pushing at him now clutched at the elf's tunic, more especially when Theron ground their hips together.

While Alistair's eyes were tightly shut, Theron kept his open for he liked watching how the man reacted to his ministration. He relished in the sight of the man's cheeks reddening in arousal and seeing the face contort in pleasure. However, he loved hearing his lover moan and gasp because of him and thus, he released the man's lips, disappointed that the saliva that linked them together broke within seconds of being separated. He then carefully brought Alistair's hands from where they were clenching at his shoulders to the top of the pillow, above Alistair's head.

"Don't move them," Theron's husky voice rasped in his ear. "Or you _will_ regret it."

There was really nothing to say about that and so all Alistair could do was nod numbly. He let out another soft moan as sharp teeth nibbled the shell of his right ear and gasped as a tongue lathered what was touched by the teeth.

"You can still say my name though," the elf whispered hotly to him before an entire earlobe was taken in and Alistair groaned, his hands clutching at the elf's shoulders.

"T-Theron!"

The man felt the elf smirk against his neck before nipping and licking his way down from the exposed throat to the impressive chest. Two small nipples were already standing to attention, despite not having being touched. It had been a while since they last made love and Theron felt his lover's erection thrusting against his inner thigh. _This won't last long_._ Neither will we either..._

He had planned on taking this slow and easy but with the way his lover was shivering below him, he had to take him soon. Perhaps hard and fast would do the trick. His lover did need to be punished after all. But first...

"Theron!" Alistair gasped out and his chest arched upwards as a sinful mouth took in a hardened nub, as the tongue played with it mercilessly before teeth bit into it gently. Its twin was flicked rather hard by Theron's hand before being pinched roughly. "Nnn! T-Theron..."

His hands didn't move from their position above his head, but Theron could see that his lover was finding it difficult to have them stay there. They formed into a fist as the hand that was free took off the blanket that had barely covered the man's naked form. Slender fingers danced lightly on the man's inner thighs and Theron bit back a moan at how Alistair's legs opened up to him, exposing his most vulnerable part to the lover that was teasing him most ruthlessly.

The man's erection had fully grown now and he could see the tip glistening with his essence. However, he was going to make Alistair beg for his touch and by the end of this, his younger partner would know that he would pay the consequences for disobeying his orders.

When the nipple he was teasing with was reddened enough, he gave its twin the same attentions until both were taut and overly sensitive to a brush of a finger or a tongue. Love bites darkened the tanned torso, the elf's need to mark this man as his overwhelming even his sensibilities.

There was a cry of frustration as the elf completely ignored the leaking shaft only to nibble on the silken thighs. The smell of Alistair's arousal increased his own and Theron licked his lips at how he would drive the man crazy with want and desire.

He briefly licked a trail along the perineum before barely withdrawing himself as Alistair's hips moved up in the hopes that his tongue would go somewhere much more sensitive.

He was mildly disappointed that Alistair's hands were still in their position but figured that they would move soon enough, especially when doing the last part of their lovemaking.

"Please..." came the quiet plea from his lover and the man's face was flushed with embarrassment as he was begging for his lover's touches.

"Please what?" Alistair shivered as Theron blew against his quivering member and he bit his lower bit as that tongue returned to its teasing again before drawing away when he lifted his hips.

"Maker..."

"That's not my name, Alistair," Theron's voice lowered in pitch and there was another pained gasp as the elf bit him not so gently near the crease of his thigh and torso before a soft, velvety organ soothed that area, causing jolts of pleasure to shoot up from the man's spine.

"Theron, please...please...I'll do anything...just touch me!"

"I am touching you." A finger trailed down from the tip of his erection to the hole that was hidden away. "You know what you want. Just say it. Beg for it."

The small appendage lightly rimmed the outside before slithering inside the hot depths of Alistair and the man's eyes widened in shock as it unerringly hit his prostrate gland. Just as Alistair hoped that the man would continue doing that, the appendage slipped out only to caress a nipple, pinching, stroking, and flickering it.

Then it returned back to the sweet hole and penetrated deeply. He went back and forth, relishing in the strangled moans and heaving gasps that he elicited from the man. He could feel the orgasm building inside the man's trembling form and just before Alistair could be pushed to the edge, his other hand gripped at the base.

"Fuck! Just suck me, fuck me...anything but this sweet torture!"

He really loved making his lover lose it and he was going to tease him some more but Alistair looked as if he was in pain. He didn't like that contorted expression in his lover. He wanted his lover's eyes open and seeing him, to know who was making him feel this good.

"Open your eyes, Alistair," Theron demanded of his lover and he was rewarded with two lust-filled orbs that gazed back at him steadily. They then shut closed as he engulfed the hard shaft and Alistair's hands almost flew from their location until they were pinned down by Theron's free one.

"I didn't say to move your hands. Just keep your eyes open."

What smartass comment that would have come out of Alistair's mouth only ended up to be guttural moans as Theron's head bobbed up and down, his other hand stroking whatever couldn't be swallowed up. The tent was getting hotter and hotter by the second and Alistair's orgasm finally broke over them with a desperate wail of Theron's name.

He wasn't given a moment to recover before his legs were brought up to his chest, causing the wound to flare a bit before turning into a dull ache that would be pushed aside for tonight. A wet sensation at his entrance soon overrode any feeling of pain though and Alistair cried out hoarsely as the elf brought all his years of skill into wringing another orgasm from him. The tongue didn't stop from stabbing inside him, even after he came again, the cum splattering all over his chest and stomach.

It was as if Theron was waiting for something. When it touched his hidden gland, he could feel himself harden somewhat and he screamed, his thighs shivering and trembling underneath the persistent assault of the elf.

"Fuu...ahhh...Theron...Nnghh!"

He was coming again, it seems. The impossibility of his quick recovery would have been made laughable if Theron had not chosen the moment to suddenly penetrate him with three fingers roughly before piercing him with his own needy shaft. The burn made him cry out in pain and he squeezed his eyes shut as the cramping sensation nearly overtook that of pleasure from his impending third climax.

"Look at me! Alistair!" Theron's voice strained at him and the man sensed a hint of fear underlying that commanding tone. The man's eyes opened and he was not prepared for that awful look in his lover's eyes, the look of someone that lost something and was merely reminiscing a nostalgic memory. Alistair's own eyes softened at the realization that despite Theron's almost rough behaviour, the elf truly was scared of losing him. He already lost one lover to the dark forces of this world and the man had a hunch that if he were gone, it would shatter whatever remained of the elf's being.

Not scared of any retribution, he cupped the elf's cheek lovingly and brought his face closer to him, kissing him passionately before saying, "I'm here. I'm alive. You're not going to lose me."

The frantic pace the elf had started slowed down at the revelation and Theron let out a pained moan, as if he was the one impaled on his lover's erection and not the other way around.

"Please," Alistair said to him in a gentle tone. "Just take me hard. Prove to us both that we're still alive."

Those words had an instant effect on the taller elf and his hips made quick, snapping motions, each movement bringing his shaft closer and closer to his sweet spot before eventually hitting it head one.

Alistair's head arched back and his hands grabbed at the strong shoulders. A mouth latched unto the column of flesh so readily exposed to him. The heady scent of sex filled the air, as did the low grunts of the elf and the higher-pitched moans of the one being made love to so roughly but so tenderly at the same time.

"Theron! T-Theron! Aghh!"

Warmth spread out from the erection that was trapped between the grinding bodies and those tight muscles of his lover became even tighter until they wrenched Theron's own climax from him, causing him to arch his back and let out a sharp cry of Alistair's name.

Exhausted but still heedful of his lover's injuries, the elf collapsed to the side of Alistair, breathing heavily as they rode their climaxes out.

"Maker's breath..." Alistair's voice trembled a little bit, his lover so exhausted by the three orgasms he experienced that his body couldn't stop shivering. "Theron, I love you..."

His head turned to face the panting elf and Theron gave his lover a warm smile before capturing his lips again. Satiated and extremely tired, Alistair cuddled up to Theron, who reached down to the disheveled blanket and brought up to their cooling bodies. The younger Warden sleepily tucked his head underneath the elf's chin while a possessive arm embraced his body. The elf placed a kiss on top of the man' sweat-drenched hair before saying to the dozing man, "Love you too."

It wasn't long before soft, even breathing could be heard and Theron marveled at the treasure he held in his arms. He really hoped that Tamlen would forgive him for having moved on so quickly and that after the whole Blight affair was finished with, they could maybe settle down and do whatever they want, even if it means spending the whole day making love to each other.

_Yes, I can imagine doing that._ Alistair was in a world of trouble now. Or maybe pleasure, if Theron had a say about it. That thought lingered in the elf's mind, even in his sleep.

-FIN-

Review responses:

gatorsnacks**:** I've never even thought of an Alistair/Cullen pairing, so the request should be quite interesting to write.

Lady Ridley: I'm glad you liked the first chapter. I hope this one pleases you too! The Cousland/Alistair fic will come in two chappies.

YoshisSupport: Yes, how did you miss that? Hopefully you didn't miss this one either. :D

Jeff: So, was this hot or not? I for some reason had trouble writing this initially, but it got easier once I got into it.

Aki: I honestly like smuts as well, but only well-written ones. Hope you like this one too!

**A/N: Well, folks, how was that for Theron being on top? The next chappie is a sweet and adorable Duncan/Cailan moment. Review plz! :D**


	3. Here In Your Arms

Summary: Duncan x Cailan

_Give me this last gift, Duncan, so if one of us perishes tomorrow, the memory of us will still live on in our hearts_

Here in Your Arms

Duncan had watched with speculative eyes the form of his newest recruit move through the masses of the King's Army. A small smile graced his features as he saw Hadrian stop by to talk to Wynne, a wise mage who was the First Enchanter's first choice as his successor in the Circle of Tower.

Seeing as how his new recruit may stay with the elder mage for a while, at least long enough to hear her story, the Warden-Commander decided that Cailan waited long enough for him and thus made his way deeper into the mass of tents, people, and other things that didn't belong in this desolate tower.

Cailan, he discovered later, was pacing rather rapidly in his tent. His young face was flushed, not out of pleasure as he would have liked, but out of anger and frustration. The King of Ferelden was still clad in his golden armor; he apparently had not time to take it off yet. The dark-haired Warden perceived the cause to be Loghain, the hawk like King's advisor who meddled too much into politics for Duncan's tastes.

All his life, Duncan shied away from any topic that involved politics and religion. It wasn't that those were deemed as boring. In fact, the thirty-six year old man discovered them to be rather enlightening and it gave the person a well-rounded view on the world's current going-ons. Unfortunately, the Warden was never good at _dealing_ politics. Ever since he became a Warden, all he cared about was the impending threat of the Blight. Even his current relationship with the King didn't help boost his skills and Duncan was fine with that, as was King Cailan. He knew that Cailan wouldn't be too happy if his own lover tried to play politics in bed as well as outside the palace. Loghain gave him enough of that; Duncan was as sure of that fact as he was of his own death, which was coming soon.

Seeing the King pace in front of him made his heart heavy at what he had to tell Cailan. But first things first.

"You wanted to see me, your Majesty?" His voice rumbled, perhaps a little lower than appropriate. Cailan's head darted upward from where it was staring at the stone ground. Green eyes lit up instantly at the sight of the Warden-Commander, who found himself suddenly enveloped in a pair of strong arms. Cailan was abnormally strong for a man his size. His lithe form belied the strength and Duncan shivered lightly as the fingers brushed his back for only a second before stopping.

"Duncan," Cailan said joyously. Duncan could have sworn that maybe his lover had split personalities. Not just a few moments ago, the King was angry at something. Now, he seemed happy as ever. Something was definitely wrong here.

"Loghain told me of his personal feelings in regards to the Wardens being here, most especially those of Orlesian descent."

"It can't be helped, your maj-" His sentence halted when a fingertip pressed against his lips. Cailan sighed heavily and withdrew the appendage, only to cup his cheek lovingly.

"It's not your fault, Duncan," Cailan's voice was almost admonishing. "Besides, _I_ am King here, not Loghain. You couldn't believe the facial expression he pulled when I told him to stick it up his arse."

Colour drained out of Duncan's face. _He told Loghain that?_

"Don't worry about it. Whatever retribution I may have to face because of him, I fear that he will too late to do anything about it."

"What-what do you mean by that?" Duncan noticed that his lover's eyes grew slightly misty and that they were gazing at his in a sad way.

"This Blight," Cailan began to say, "may be the death of me."

"No, don't say that your highness! What will happen if the troops hear you?" Duncan hissed at the King, uncaring that his tone could be taken as treasonous for whatever reason. The young man ignored his slip of conduct.

"I know, it's just..." The confidence in those eyes just disappeared then and Duncan saw the young man become that same boy he had watched all those years ago. He took him into his arms and hugged him, trying to convey his feelings in his action. Duncan was not one for words and Cailan understood it. "This, this feels wrong. We've won three easy skirmishes. They were too easy. It's as if the Darkspawn are taunting us, feeling us out before finally deciding to crush us. Besides, you've got something to tell me. Come on, I'm pouring out my feelings here, like a woman."

"You're not a woman, Cailan," Duncan whispered in his ear and his thigh shifted forward, to bump into the growing erection underneath the groin plating of the armor.

"Clearly," Cailan snorted and Duncan was pleased to see the old Cailan back, feisty and passionate. The Cailan only he was priviledged to see, no one else. "I...I want to speak with Alistair, when your recruits come back and go through the Joining."

"Are you that's wise?"

"Yes, I believe some closure is needed. Father told me in his last will that there are certain items I need to give him and certain things that I need to tell him as well. A dying wish is a sacred promise after all."

"Alistair may not be as welcoming as you hope him to be," the Warden warned him and Cailan nodded in agreement before stepping back from Duncan's arms. There was a determined expression on that fair face. Duncan knew that once the look was set, there was nothing he could do or say to change his lover's mind.

"You probably should go; the recruits need to head out before the sun reaches its apex. It will take them time to accomplish your mission."

-o0o-

Almost six candlelights later, when the sun was starting to hide itself from the world, Duncan returned to the King's tent, only to find the bed already having a very naked occupant. It seemed as if his lover wanted it hard and fast, with little foreplay involved.

However, as he began to undress himself, Cailan rose from the bed and stopped his hands. His body then shivered at the light touches and he couldn't help but let out a moan here and there whenever Cailan took off a piece of clothing. Perhaps, his lover wanted to take it slow.

His patience ran thin when nimble fingers tweaked his nipples before splaying themselves out on his abdomen. His muscles jumped when another hand merely brushed by his groin area only to tickle his inner thighs.

Duncan's hands started to think for themselves but they ended up threading through the silken blonde hair. His eyes narrowed at the hypnotic sight of Cailan taking in his shaft and he resisted the urge to thrust inside that wet heat. He managed to control his urges though and was thoroughly rewarded for it too. The suctions and licks increased until his young lover was driving him mad. His grip tightened, to signalize that his climax was coming upon him. Cailan didn't pull away like he expected though. He just increased his pace until Duncan's head reared back and he let out a deep, guttural moan of release. From the sound of it, Cailan was glad to have personally asked Wynne for a silencing spell.

Cailan moaned at the rush of hot seed spurting down his throat and tried to swallow every last bit. He managed to do so without it spilling out of his mouth and his hands clamped unto his lover's thick thighs tightly, when the taller man's legs buckled in the aftermath.

Duncan appreciated the gesture and he cupped his lover's cheek. Cailan kissed into the palm that pressed lovingly against his face and when both hands urged him upwards, he did.

What happened next was a blur of movements and sensations that Cailan was made dizzy. He was only able to feel the caresses, hear soft murmurings of love. Perhaps the exigency of their situation made everything seem sublime as Cailan's body reached higher and higher towards the threshold of ultimate pleasure.

He felt hair tickling his abdomen and then a wet suction around his own throbbing shaft. His hands sought out for his lover and tangled themselves through the wealth of black, silk locks.

"Duncan..." he gasped as an appendage teased his entrance, made wet somehow either by his own pre-cum that had leaked or maybe Duncan had wetted his own finger. Either way, he didn't care. A soft hiss escaped him as it breached him and then his eyes widened once it brushed against his prostrate. "Gnngh! Duncan...ohh!..."

Fingers tugged at Duncan's hair insistently and Cailan whimpered as Duncan pinched at the base, denying him his much needed release. It was made worse when strong hands pushed on his legs and the blonde man found himself almost bent in half. A protest almost flew out of his mouth but ended up as being a high-pitched moan when something wet and firm slithered across his entrance before spearing into him.

Whimpers and strangled gasps escaped him, the noises probably embarrassing the King if he had any mind to think so. However, the consistent stabs that had alternated with light licks caused all thoughts to fly out of the window and all the King could think about was how that tongue owned him.

Again, he was denied his climax and he uttered a protest, only for it to be swallowed by a set of lips that settled against his. The impending climax soon withered away at the sudden pain that seared throughout his body and he gasped loudly, holding unto his lover tightly as he tried to adjust himself.

Duncan's eyes shuttered closed at the exquisite heat that surrounded him. Cailan never failed in making him feel so good. A few years into the relationship still hadn't dimmed the love they held for each other and the urgency of this night all made it that much sweeter and sad. _Almost as if this is our last night together..._

The thought made him ache inside and Cailan's soft moans were drowned out by the ghostly voices of his dream, the voices of his deceased Wardens from that doomed campaign into the Deep Roads. A gentle hand caressed his cheek and a soft voice whispered in his ear, telling him that it was ok, that he should let go and just enjoy this night together. Its soothing tones chased away the darkness and Duncan gasped loudly, his chest heaving as he unknowingly thrust forwards, bringing himself even further into this man. The sudden movement elicited a deeper moan, one that reverberated into his very soul.

"Duncan..." A warm clasped on his left cheekbone and his eyes opened, only to see such a sweet sight before him.

Cailan's face was flushed with passion, his lips parted to allow soft moans and his name come out. Those beautiful eyes, almost glistening brightly in the soft candlelight as if they were precious emeralds, gazed back at him with such longing at Duncan, that they made the Warden feel quite warm inside, warm and loved. His chest heaved rapidly up and down as the owner panted and gasped, trying to adjust himself to the shaft that impaled him so suddenly, so assertively.

Duncan could wait forever for Cailan to do so though, especially tonight. He didn't want to rush this. The upcoming battle and the adrenaline that came with it didn't make him yearn for the fast and hard type of loving. Rather, it did the opposite and the Warden placed his full length on the King's body, causing both to groan in unison as he entered even deeper into the man, as Cailan's member throbbed impatiently in between them, the essence dripping out unto Duncan's stomach. He kissed the high cheekbones and trailed them all the way to those swollen lips. After a few moments of dueling with their tongues, they parted and Duncan nuzzled the side of his lover's neck. He breathed in the addictive smell of Cailan, like sunflowers and rain.

He would have lain here all day, smelling him, taking delight in how his lover trembled at the kisses and the nips on his neck.

Cailan, on the other hand, had other ideas and his hips shifted down. He brought his legs around the man's wide waist and hooked his ankles together. The new position allowed for Duncan to thrust directly into his prostrate gland and he hissed in pleasure at the first brush only to moan out of displeasure when the Warden-Commander stopped moving for a moment.

"Move...please...move..." He whispered softly in his ear and opted to nibble on the earlobe, hoping to entice the man into moving again. It did and he gasped out Duncan's name several times. Someone was murmuring something to him and the King of Ferelden almost gave a start when he realized that it was Duncan talking to him, telling him how much he was loved, how this night could be their last.

He didn't want to hear those sad words leave Duncan's mouth and he kissed him on the lips again, hard. When he couldn't breathe anymore, more out of Duncan's increasingly hard thrusts into him than the kisses themselves, he released him and nuzzled into a palm that caressed him lovingly. He cupped that hand in his own and looked up at his lover.

" Give me this last gift, Duncan, so if one of us perishes tomorrow, the memory of us will still live on in our hearts."

Duncan's eyes widened at the insinuation that this battle could take one of them into the Fade. Then they softened and the Warden hooked his arms underneath his lover's armpits, to steady Cailan for his stronger thrusts. His head bent forward and the sweet symphony of Cailan's moans and gasps filled his ears as they both reached higher and higher into their climax, until neither man knew where one began and one ended. The sudden warmth on their stomachs told Duncan that his King had reached the threshold and his lover clenched down, around his shaft until he too was gasping out his lover's name, uncaring if the guards outside heard him.

He had enough rationality to shift his weight to the side, so as not to crush his lover. Two trembling arms reached for him though and Duncan moved to where he laid on his back, allowing the King to have his head fall tiredly in the crook of his arm, tucked underneath his chin.

"Duncan.." Cailan whispered hoarsely, his voice used up in his screaming during their coupling. "If we die tomorrow, know that I didn't regret this, please."

Green eyes sought out dark-brown eyes. Cailan elicited a soft moan as Duncan kissed him again. He let out a quiet sigh as a strong hand stroked through his sweaty, blonde locks and the intimate gesture soon soothed into sleep. Before he slipped into the Fade, he felt Duncan's love rather than heard the words and personally thanked the Maker for this wonderful gift.

-FIN-

A/N: Sorry this took so long to post! I was preoccupied with updating my other stories, _Wolf of Highever_ and _To Lose Another_. If you haven't already, please check them out and leave a line or so.

Below is a schedule of other upcoming chappies with requested pairings:

_**Chapter 4: Cousland x Alistair (request of Lady Ridley)**_

_**Chapter 5: Alistair x Cullen (request of gatorsnacks)**_

_**Chapter 6: Fenris x Sebastian (request of gatorsnacks)**_

Please represent a request in a review! That way, it's guaranteed I'll go for it.

Thank you for all reading and have an awesome weekend!


	4. The Wolves and The Hawk

A/N: This is for you, **YoshisSupport**, a great reader who leaves encouraging reviews and gentle nudging in my direction.

Chapter 4: The Wolves and The Hawke

A man is a visual creature at heart. To feel, to touch, to see a beautiful creature in front of him would make him a happy man for that instant moment of his life. For Alistair, seeing two handsome men, not women, made him ecstatic. It caused him briefly to wonder what good he could have done in his previous life, if such a theory is possible. The sight of Hadrian alone often spikes his own arousal. The addition of a new person, even if it was just a one-time offer only, brought a sense of the unknown, a dangerous element that would have made Alistair wary before meeting Hadrian, before hardening after his sister's harsh rejection of his existence. Now though, he was secure in his wants, in his relationship with Hadrian. So much so that he sometimes let Hadrian control the pace of their intimate sessions and it had wondrous results. He had no doubt that this night would be no less.

"Alistair, I thought I was supposed to be the thinker here," a voice laughed softly in his ear and the blonde Warden almost jumped at the hot breath tickling his ear. He didn't hear Hadrian approach him from behind. Of course, the soft fur mats of the room they were currently in dulled the sounds of footsteps.

"He is probably just nervous, Hadrian," another voice said, its tone slightly deeper than Hadrian. Alistair turned to gaze the newcomer and he couldn't help but gasp at the fully-clothed man leaning against the doorframe. The topaz eyes raked over his form appreciatively and Alistair just realized that while both his lover and Arren were fully-clothed, he himself was absolutely naked. No way did they just do that!

Another laugh sprung out and when Alistair looked back, to regard Hadrian hotly in anger, his lips were taken in quite roughly by their counterpart. Protests died in his mouth as Hadrian's tongue rimmed the entrance, demanding for Alistair to open up.

Gloved hands clasped around his shoulders and Alistair couldn't help but let out a hapless gasp as they stroked the shoulder blades. The small circular caresses made him shiver in delight and he moaned into the kiss when those same hands traveled further down, only to cup the shapely buttocks, muscular from all the fighting he had to do to survive.

His lover drew back slowly and Alistair's eyes fluttered open. A pair of blue eyes looked back at him and he could almost see the wolf's visage outlining that beautiful face, framed by a high cheekbones and strong jaw.

"Alistair, you sure you're ok with this?" Alistair didn't understand the question at first. What had happened before this moment? His thoughts all jumbled together, trying to make sense of the chaos. He remembered partying with the Wardens in Amaranthine, after they had successfully routed the darkspawn and captured the talking one. Another shudder wracked his frame and Alistair's stomach almost revolted at the memory of the darkspawn saying coherent words.

"Perhaps this was a bad idea," Arren murmured quietly to them. Alistair knew without having to look back that the mage was still in the doorway, keeping at a respectful distance from the couple. Since when did Arren arrive? Wasn't he supposed to be with Anders at this time?

"Anders has left me," was the reply. _Oh, I didn't know that._ "He said he'll be back tomorrow and that I'm free to join the famous Wardens in their frolicking. Even he appreciates fine beauty when there is one to be found. Or should I say two?"

Alistair blushed and he wasn't the only either. Hadrian's cheeks reddened at the blunt praise.

"The deal is only we can penetrate each other. You understand this." The last sentence wasn't a question. It was a blunt statement. Alistair saw Arren nod his head and an unexpected weight was lifted from his shoulder. He had worried about that bit of detail. Only recently had he let Hadrian take him and he was not prepared for another man to do so. While Arren was not a stranger to them, Alistair still felt wary around him. Those golden eyes reminded him of Morrigan, the witch who had left them for her own reasons. Thankfully, his whole demeanor was different from the witch. His posture exuded confidence and strength in not only himself but in his friends and family.

"Just relax, Alpha," Hadrian said to him and his hands cupped Alistair's face, bringing him closer to him. As Hadrian kissed him, he felt someone move behind him. Light sucks and nips started at his neck, with a pair of impossibly soft hands caressing the prominent shoulder blades. They smoothed over old scars and he shivered at how sensitive he was. Hadrian would always brush over them, worshiping the blemished skin as if grateful that Alistair was still alive to bear these. He somehow knew though that these hands didn't belong to his lover, but to someone else. He would have panicked, not liking this third element to their lovemaking. However, Hadrian was relaxed, extremely so, and very trusting too. In turn, Alistair tried to relax and he let out a muffled groan as those hands cupped his buttocks before sweeping around the thighs, caressing the silken inner ones gently.

Another pair of hands, hidden away by very fine leather, stroked his collarbone and traveled downwards to briefly cup his pectorals before finally pinching his nipples, which were already standing to attention. His body grew heated at the sharp contrast of the hands stroking his body. Hadrian's gloved ones proved to be the most devastating but Arren's slender, almost feminine ones were no less pleasurable though.

"I've just kissed you and you're already begging for it." A thumb and forefinger roughly rolled the taut bud and Alistair let out a breathless gasp at the jolt of pleasure that cut across his body.

"Let's move unto the bed, shall we? Hadrian?"

"Hmmm. Yes, I fear that Alistair will be not standing long on his feet, especially when I do this."

"Ahh! Nnngh!" Alistair cried out sharply when his burgeoning erection was abruptly taken into a wet cavern and his knees buckled. Strong hands cupped his buttocks, kneading them wantonly and squeezing them as his erection was sucked, licked, and nipped. His thighs trembled, especially when a finger brushed lightly against his puckered opening, teasing Alistair of what's come next.

Alistair gasped out loud when a second pair of arms cupped his pectorals and then pinching the nipples that were straining for attention. His eyes scrunched closed, not really trusting himself to restrain his climax at the erotic sight of those hands and that bobbing, silver-haired head. His own hands were moving too, but only through those silken locks of his lover. He tried not to grip his lover tightly, but the pair were giving more pleasure than he could handle. Stars sparkled in front of him and he moaned out Hadrian's name, trying to tell his lover that he was coming.

He cried out in pain when fingers clamped around the base, denying him his release. No! He had to! He couldn't take this! Not this sweet torture of both men touching him.

Suddenly, his lips were devoured by those of his lover and he groaned into it, his hips pressing against Hadrian's. His hard shaft leaked plentifully and it nudged into Hadrian's right thigh. Alistair pressed again and he hoped that maybe at least he could hump his lover to climax.

Sadly, Hadrian caught unto his plan for he pulled back only to lean forward and whisper in a husky tone. "Don't forget about our guest, lover. He needs some too."

Hands gently coaxed him backward until he fell unto the bed with a soft 'ompfh!' Then he was gently manhandled unto Arren, who was also naked. _Since when did he undress?_ His thoughts immediately scattered when his erection came into contact with another one, the tips touching each other and causing both men to moan.

"Maker...!...I..." Alistair's hands were positioned on each side of Arren's chest and they clutched helplessly at the sheets, grasping them with a desperate strength when his hips were hiked up high enough to raise his ass, but still have his erection rub against Arren's.

A warm tongue slithered across his opening and Alistair gasped out Hadrian's name, dropping his weight unto his forearms. He laid his head into the crook of Arren's neck, groaning in the mage's ear as that tongue licked him again and again, in a random pattern that prevented him from anticipating. His hips were locked itno place and he couldn't even move with the tongue. All he could do was just take the insistent licking. Sometimes his lover nipped him on the round cheek; other times, his tongue would wonder downwards, to paint a hot line along his perineum and eventually licking the sacs that hung heavily between his thighs, full with cumm.

"Kiss him, Arren. His moans are distracting me," was all he heard before Arren turned his head up and towards him. The scent of tulips and lavenders wafted through Alistair's nose, a wonderful contrast to the more woodsy smell of Hadrian. His moans and breathless gasps were swallowed by the mage, who dominated his mouth with a tongue that danced with his, making him shudder even more. A muffled cry was released and Alistair's body thrashed and writhed when that snakelike organ then speared him without warning, bringing the heat inside him. Hadrian had _never_ done this to him, said it was disgusting. Of course that was before it was done to him. Apparently, his lover wanted to return the favour.

"Those sounds stopped, Hadrian. Perhaps he is thinking still." He could feel the mage smirk against his lips and there was another chuckle, darker though and it made the younger Warden shiver.

There was no reply, no verbal at least. However, Alistair let out a harsh groan when a finger followed in the tongue's trail, stroking his inside carefully.

"Gnnghh! Aghh!"

"There they are," Arren murmured against his check before taking in an earlobe and sucking on it.

Not before long, two fingers scissored him mercilessly, digging even deeper with each succeeding moan until they finally bumped against his sweet spot.

Alistair pulled his head back from Arren and shrieked as the two men continued their sensual assault on him. Hadrian's fingers twirling deep inside him while his own shaft bumped and ground against Arren, who moaned softly until finally Alistair felt something wet splatter unto his stomach. He knew it wasn't him but Arren who had come and became smug when he outlasted this third element. Unfortunately, the plunging of three fingers made him wince and his fingers dug into Arren's shoulders. _Maker...this kinda...hurts..._

"Sshh," the mage whispered soothingly in his ear, the voice slightly strained from his first orgasm.

"Alistair...I love you..." came Hadrian's own comforting reply and Alistair groaned haplessly when those three fingers constantly brushed again his prostrate. He shivered and trembled at the feeling of something blunt pressing against his ass. "I love you..."

The last word was accentuated by a slow thrust; even in their heat, the two Wardens had always been careful in not thrusting into each other, especially when dry. Alistair's eyes scrunched closed and heavy pants reigned in the room, overcoming the soft sounds of his lovers.

When Hadrian finally bottomed out, he stayed there, valiantly resisting the urge to just pound his lover into the mattress. If Arren wasn't here, Alistair would probably have been comfortable for the harsh pounding. This wasn't so and Alistair could feel his lover trembling above him, his nipples sharp pinpoints against his shoulder blades. He heard his lover whisper to him, "Alistair...please...I...I have to move..."

He nodded his head, giving his lover consent to begin thrusting his hips and soon, the cramping pain faded away, only to dissolve in pleasurable shocks and jolts. Each sharp thrust only increased the burning fire of passion within him.

"Gahhn! Nnnghh! Hadrian!"

"Yes, say my name, Alistair, say it!"

Hadrian didn't give him a chance to answer coherently for his lover leaned backwards and strong arms wrapped around his chest. Alistair became confused and then he realized that he was sitting astride his lover's lap, with his shaft bobbing against his stomach.

Alistair groaned at being even more filled by his lover and his legs were spread even further apart by Hadrian's thick thighs pushing between them. His balls felt even heavier and his shaft throbbed painfully, the head purple and dripping. Gloved fingers petted his inner thighs, stroking in steady measures before finally wrapping around the waist and forcing him to stay in place, not that he didn't want to go anywhere.

Heavy breathing could be heard in the room, with the pauses filled with pants and gasps. Alistair could smell the pungent aroma of passion and sex wafting in the room. Someone was whispering something akin to '_please...more...more...'_ He was very astonished to realize that the pleas were coming from him and Hadrian's smile formed at the nape of his neck, as if he was quite smug with himself.

"Do you like this, Alistair?" His lover whispered teasingly in his ear. Two pairs of hands stroked his flanks, petting and soothing sensitive spots. "Open your eyes, Al. You're going to miss it."

What? Miss what? Alistair's eyes slowly opened and the sight of Arren down on his knees, his mouth dangerously close to his erect shaft made him want to close them. If he stared at him any longer, he would come instantly.

"Keep them open, love. Or I won't let you come at all tonight." A firm hand squeezed the base of his shaft and he groaned as his impending climax was roughly denied. He shivered as the smooth leather wrapped around his hot member and all he could was just arch up or down, whatever to remove that offending hand. The hand moved with him and he let a desperate moan.

"Hadrian...please...Maker..."

"Keep them open. See who is giving you pleasure tonight. Feel us as we bring you ever closer to that needed release."

Alistair's eyes kept open, although not without trouble, especially upon seeing the tip of his shaft disappear into Arren's mouth. Electricity ran through him and the blonde Warden wondered faintly if Arren had sent lightning bolts through his entire frame. His body writhed and shuddered as Arren paid homage to his member with his velvet tongue and sharp teeth that lightly grazed the sides.

His moans increased in both pitch and frequency; his thoughts were reduced to just the names of the ones who were loving him and he wasn't sure on whose name he should call out. Hadrian for his shallow thrusts as he slowly pushed and pulled out of him or perhaps Arren for that moist but devastatingly hot mouth that swallowed him and pulling him ever closer to the brink.

A few moments later, he didn't care anyways. His breathless gasps and pants must have set them off for the thrusts suddenly became sharper and more accurate, hitting his prostrate head on and giving him no relief. Arren's lips just tightened around his shaft and soft, slender fingers grasped his sac, rolling them gently and often rubbing against the perineum.

His eyes couldn't take it anymore and they fluttered closed. Hadrian didn't say anything. However, he still whispered in his ears, murmuring sweet things to him. "So good...you're so tight...I'm...so glad...that you let me take you...this must...be how...you feel." Each pause was accentuated by a hard thrust until eventually all Alistair could do now was just gasp and moan in pleasure, as his body was worked inside and out by those skillful hands, the masterful hips that snapped into him, causing his body to bounce up and down lightly, even with the gloved hands gripping him tight to that taut stomach.

His spine tingled and he suddenly felt too hot. Heat unfurled itself from his lower abdomen until it burst throughout his entire body, resulting in him arching up in Hadrian's arms. His head threw back unto his lover's shoulder and his eyes snapped open, looking up but not really the beige ceiling. All he see was the whiteness that flooded his vision. All he could feel was his own body orgasm. All he could hear was him crying out Hadrian's name. Then, his sensations crashed into each other, flinging him across the precipe and into soft darkness.

When he next came to his senses, he found himself lying underneath the bedsheets. His whole backside didn't ache like it usually does. There were limits to their saliva after all and one of them was not being able to heal sore muscles instantly.

Hadrian seemed to be saying 'bye' to someone else and Alistair's head slowly turned in that direction. Arren was talking to Hadrian and then waved to Alistair, thanking him for that wonderful session.

"Thanks again, Hadrian," Arren's eyes shifted to Hadrian again. "Perhaps we should do it when Anders comes by?"

"I'm afraid that won't be the case. I only wanted to indulge him in this particular fantasy."

"Ah, I see. Well, so long."

"May we meet again," Hadrian said before saluting him in the Warden's way, with fists cross over his chest and bowing slightly. Arren did the same, the gesture more meaningful since the mage wasn't a Warden.

His lover then closed the door softly, perhaps trying to keep quiet for his slumbering lover. There was a soft click, indicating to the sleepy Alistair that the door was locked. He saw his older lover turn then, to regard him with kind eyes.

"Alistair? You're ok? We weren't too loud, were we?"

His lover had always been extra considerate with him, especially after a steamy session when Alistair would rarely bottom for him. The older Warden walked to the side of the bed and then climbed in between the sheets, moaning as his body was flushed with his lover's.

"What...what happened?" Alistair cuddled next to his lover, laying his head on Hadrian's chest. The soft beats of his lover's heart lulled him even further into boneless relaxation.

"You passed out. Must have been intense for you because even with us cleaning you up and me tucking you into bed didn't wake you up."

There was an unintelligible mumble and Hadrian laughed at how Alistair just nuzzled his chest, perhaps trying to hide his embarrassment.

"You were amazing, love," Hadrian said to him in a reassuring tone. The younger Warden felt Hadrian kiss the sweat-drenched locks and pull Alistair even closer to his body. He could sense his lover's delight in bringing his lover over the cliff, to control the pace of their lovemaking.

"Thanks," he breathed out, his eyes fluttering for a few times before finally closing. There was an answering tightness of the strong arms and a reply that truly warmed his heart, "anything for you, love. Anything for you."

-o0o-

A/N: Wow, that made me have a nosebleed! :D

If you like it, give a shout out! Sidenote: you don't have to request something in a review. Just say something, please? With a chibi Alistair on top?

M! Cousland x Alistair is next! Loose plot details: Alistair may be King of Ferelden, but when in the bedroom, Adrian is his Master. Personal request of Lady Ridley.


	5. The Pirate's Playthings

Prompt: Alistair and his lover had always wanted to try out a threesome. Little did they know that a certain pirate king at the Pearl would help bring their dream to fruition…

As requested by Coco Reed

**The Pirate's Playthings**

"Excuse me?" Green eyes blinked rapidly and the Warden's heart thumped even faster at the tempting offer.

The shorter but no less attractive young elf grinned lasciviously at them, the dark eyes raking over his form in what could only be in a leery way.

"You wanted me to teach you something, no? Let's just say this is a 'get-to-you know' session," elf proposed.

The noble mage pondered over the offer and if he were single, he would have no qualms in immediately accepting it. However, as he turned to regard his lover of only six months, other things came to mind. Would Alistair approve? Would this change the facet of their budding relationship?

Surprisingly, Alistair was also gazing rather lustfully at the elf in turn and, as if reading his mage lover's mind, his smile turned wolfish and he said, much to Leliana's dismay, "well, we always wanted a threesome fantasy, right, Daylen? How about it?"

"Alistair! That is entirely inappropriate!" It wasn't Leliana who spoke out, but Daylen's elderly counterpart, the kind but sometimes overbearing and annoying Wynne. She glared at the two Wardens in that hard, disapproving way while Morrigan just rolled her eyes at them and Leliana pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

"Are you sure, Alistair?" The question was kind of rhetoric but Daylen wanted to make sure that his blonde lover really wanted this and not just him.

Alistair didn't answer him but he stepped closer to the mage and whispered something in his ear, something that the other party members couldn't hear. Daylen grinned at the suggestion and when Alistair stepped back away from him, the mage merely pecked him on the cheek and turned to their pirate king.

"So, you want to show us your ship?" Daylen asked. To any passer-byer, the question was innocent but the threesome knew that it was just full of innuendo, of lustful promises to come.

"Si, amores, let me show you, yes? I believe the cabins are quite comfortable."

With that said, the lithe elf led the way, giving a simple order to his second in command to 'not disturb them.'

The threesome promptly left the Pearl, leaving behind a group of amused and disgusted companions.

-o0o-

"This…ahh…was…not…what I had in mind!" Alistair gasped harshly when invisible tendrils of magic bound his hands behind his back, leaving his front exposed and free for petting by his two partners.

"Ahh, such a fine specimen, is he not?" Zevran's tongue clucked against his teeth and he flicked a nipple with gloved fingers. It prompted a loud gasp and Daylen smiled at his lover's reaction.

The blonde was so responsive, easily hurt by harsh words and calmed by gentle ministrations. The mage knew that it would be his lover's first experience with 'magical tentacles' as his friend Anders had called it and he knew Alistair was going to kill him after this. In the meantime, however, Daylen planned on enjoying every bit of Alistair and he was quite certain the elf would garner much entertainment from the both of them.

Alistair's eyes looked absolutely furious at his own and Daylen suddenly couldn't wait until the older Warden would pay him back for this. The angry glare soon withered under the attentions of his hands that were pinching his nipples and something else that was not quite a hand wrapping itself around the base of his cock.

Both partners let out an amused chuckle at Alistair's frustrated growl.

"Shit! Daylen! I swear if you're not-mfphh!" His protests died when Daylen's lips landed on his quite roughly and the blonde Warden's growls soon became soft moans.

"I promise, Alistair, you'll get to tie me up after this, but now, just enjoy this moment, enjoy us," were Daylen's sweet words. They had a calming effect on the nervous warden and Daylen inwardly let out a sigh of relief. He was afraid he had pushed Alistair too far. Physically, he kissed Alistair again, his two hands cupping the man's face in a strong grip.

Zevran looked upon that loving scene with some amusement and seeing the two lovers act like that pulled at his heart. His eyes slightly glazed over as he remembered the good, sexy times with Taliesin and Rianna, before it all went to shit. He roughly shook those thoughts aside. Listening to the soft and sweet moans of their bound partner made him harden immediately and he suddenly found that there was something wrong with this scene. Actually, two things were wrong: Daylen still wore his robes and he was still watching the lovebirds make out.

Daylen pulled away from Alistair and emitted a low moan. A hand was in turn caressing his body, treating it with reverence in its long, teasing strokes that started from his neck and finished right above his own burgeoning shaft. He whimpered when that hand roughly pulled up his robes and thus revealing a sexy pair of

"Oh my, dear Warden? You're wearing a thong? Tsk, tsk, if you were captured instead of him, this captor would have no choice but to taste you, to take you…"

The statement was slightly mocking and Daylen was almost afraid that the elf would take him right there and then, without any preparation. While he and Alistair had many experience in their steamy session, the mage wasn't prepared for a dry penetration.

"Get Alistair on the bed, sweet thing, and go down on your knees," the command was low and soft but it held a threat if not obeyed. All Daylen could do was nod his head and he gently manhandled his bound lover to the centre of the pirate captain's large bed. The satin covers felt wonderful when pressed against their skins and both groaned as they slide down unto the blankets.

As requested, Daylen positioned himself on his knees, his head near the trembling warden's groin. The smell of musk and something uniquely Alistair further drifted into his nostrils. Small beads of precum were gathered at the tip and the mage had a sudden urge to lick them.

Alistair's hands usually would grab at his head at this point. His fingers would normally thread through his dark locks and they often would tug at them, especially when nearing orgasm. Now, all the blonde could do was thrust up, almost choking the poor lad. Daylen quickly remedied that by having the magic tendrils bind his ankles together and gently spreading them wide and over his shoulders. There was a pained moan followed by a gasp as he swallowed his lover whole.

"Day-daylen! Unghh!" More speed spurted out, coating his shaft and making it all the sweeter for Daylen to taste him. The mage saw a pink flush overtake his lover's tanned body and thought Alistair couldn't look any hotter than he was now.

Bound and with his legs pulled wide and over his shoulders, Alistair's entire body was thus exposed to his touches. Those soft brown eyes were closed off behind scrunched eyelids and pink lips parted to let out a delicious melody of sweet sounds of moans and groans of his name. Only he was allowed to see Alistair like this, at least until now. However, Daylen, using a certain mind trick, knew that Zevran would never tell anyone else of this particular escapade. At least not the details and their names.

His thoughts then burst apart when he felt a wet sensation down in his lower regions and the resulting moan reverberated all the way down to Alistair's shaft.

"Ah, mi amore," the elf sighed lightly, "you taste exquisite. I wish to sample more of you,"

Daylen moaned again when that same wet organ licked lightly over his entrance. His hands gripped Alistair's hips tightly, with a strength that would leave bruises the next day.

"Ahh…Zevran…st-stop…" Daylen tried to say. He had never let anyone else take him besides Alistair and this third element, no matter how attractive he was, could be rougher than what he was used to. Another lick and another elicited more whimpers out of him. To avoid himself from getting any louder, he took Alistair's cock back in and began to suck in earnest.

Alistair's body arched up, despite the magic tendrils, which were weakening with the fading focus of the mage. Daylen's hands pinned his hips down even more. Alistair's mind felt like it was on fire from all the pleasurable sensations. That hot, wet inferno which swallowed him whole threatened to bring him even closer to that cliff and where the magic tendrils touched, it was cool but still set his nerves on fire. He lost himself in the whirlpool of hot sensations and, when Daylen groaned again around his cock, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Daylen! Anggh!" Sweet liquid rushed into the mage's mouth. Daylen's own orgasm came then, the sight of Alistair throwing his head back and pushing himself fully into Daylen's mouth causing his own inhibitions to let go.

"Alistair…" was all he managed to say before grunting in climax, his essence splattering all over himself and the sheets. There was a disapproving tsk before fingers swiped through it and Daylen's face blushed when the elf commented on how sweet it was, just like him.

He was urged to crawl up Alistair's body, their shafts brushing each other and jolting them with pleasurable aftershocks.

"You're a mage, no?" The elf whispered quietly in his ear and Daylen's reply was cut off with a moan when a tongue licked the edge of his ear. Sharp teeth followed it, accentuating the pleasure with some pain. "While I would love to drag this out and fully investigate you two, time is of a precious commodity."

The mage shivered as something blunt pressed against his lower region. Yet, in spite of being lost in a haze, Daylen refused to take Alistair dry and thus, his fingers trailed down the still-coated shaft. They soaked themselves in as much as of his lover's essence as he could before dragging down to the puckered entrance. Alistair moaned out his name and he trusted his hips up, to encourage the fingers to penetrate them.

They did, ever so slowly and Daylen relished in feeling the velvety but steel walls that clamped around him. He stroked the inner walls, taking care to caress every inch. He usually would keep on stroking his lover from the inside, but their elven pirate was almost impatient, _almost_. Also, slender fingers of the elf plunged past his own entrance, causing him to wince at the suddenness of this action before screaming out in ecstasy as they struck his prostrate unerringly. Unwittingly, his magic trickled out of his fingers, the warm, electrical shocks dissipating into Alistair, whose moans went to a slightly higher pitch, so different from the low guttural moans he was emitting just a few moments before.

Two more accurate plunges had the mage gasp out the elf's name in climax and then something far bigger replaced those slender appendages. Daylen tucked his head into the crook of the blonde's neck, hissing as he was slowly impaled by that heavy shaft. Thankfully, the elf was a considerate lover, despite being in a slight rush, and there was a period of stillness, probably to allow him to adjust to the fullness.

"Enter him, mi amore, and let's ride him," came the low, baritone command and again, Daylen felt compelled to obey. He would have to ask Zevran if he was a blood mage in disguise after all this.

He withdrew his digits and silently waved off the magic tendrils that bound his lover. He wanted his lover to hold him during this act; he wanted to feel those strong arms wrap around his lithe frame, holding him in this deeply intimate act.

Almost immediately, Alistair wrapped his arms around Daylen, bringing him lower to make their bodies flush against each other. The only sound the blonde made was a short grunt as the mage entered him, his well-endowed member filling his lover and then some.

Then, without any warning, the elf snapped his hips forward, causing Daylen to thrust unusually harder into Alistair.

"Nnnghh! D-D-Daylen! Haa…nnghh…" Alistair's succulent moans made Daylen want to pound into him and the elf read his mind. The pace, initially slow and deep, soon turned into deeper but quick jabs. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and the high-pitched sounds of pleasure from Alistair orchestrated wonderfully with Daylen's deeper groans.

Although Daylen had personally wanted Alistair in between them, his position was even better. The tightness of Alistair's body surrounded him, fitting him like the best-selling Orlesian gloves, smooth and tight-fitting. Warmth enveloped his shaft and it contrasted delightfully with the coolness of the ship's cabin as he pushed and pulled out of his lover.

The elf's own shaft was merciless in its accurate strikes and Daylen found himself caught in a feedback loop. As he approached closer and closer to that pleasurable end, his own body tightened more and more around the pirate's own flesh. The elf behind him grunted and growled as he in turn ploughed into Alistair roughly. The tides of absolute ecstasy rose up and crashed over him, flinging Daylen into his climax much sooner than he had anticipated. All the mage could sense were Alistair's hoarse shout of his name and the warmth rushing into his own body. Then he fell, barely registering a pair of strong arms catching him as he gave himself over to the Fade.

-o0o-

Daylen woke up to soft and soothing caresses on his skin. He heard some voices mumble quietly in the background, as if the owners were afraid of waking him up.

"Ah, I see our lucky partner is rousing from his beauty sleep, yes?" A fair, elven face peered at him and something pressed against his mouth. The mage was prompted to drink the contents of the wooden cup and he felt much better now. The cobwebs of that haze he was in disappeared and his thoughts were clearer now.

He blinked rapidly, to bring the two blurred faces into focus. Alistair was surprisingly awake and the warrior cupped his lover's cheek, the thumb caressing the area underneath his eye. Daylen appreciated the tender motion and he leaned into Alistair's palm, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.

"I've a thought to keep the both of you here," the elf began to say, a smirk gracing his somewhat feminine features. "However, a deal's a deal. You are better, now, sweet thing, right? If so, we should meet your friends at the Pearl. Who knows what the mice will do if the cats are away?"

Daylen just laughed at that statement. As he straightened out his robes, after being cleaned with a cleansing spell, he joked around, saying, "I bet Sten would want to try some of the cookies at the Pearl. Or maybe Morrigan would simply freeze him just for her amusement."

"Freeze? That means we've a Stenicicle!" Alistair jestered horribly and Daylen smacked his hand against his face, forever mourning that his lover, no matter how cute he was, should really keep his jokes to himself. "What?" Alistair flushed in embarrassment and Daylen merely pushed him out of the pirate captain's cabin.

Half a candlelight later, they arrived back at the Pearl. Wynne as expected was still in that angry stance of hers, her arms crossed underneath her bosom with an angry scowl distorting her motherly face.

"You guys were gone for almost two candlelights! What in the Maker's Pits were you all doing?" She asked them and the two Wardens stared at each other. Then Daylen pushed Alistair forward, "you tell her."

"What?"

-o0o-

A/N: Nothing like a sexy threesome with our favourite Wardens and the Antivan Zevran to make your day! I will do the other requests as soon as I can. Even writing smex scenes take time. I love you all! Again, if there's anything you want to see in this hot collection, just request it in a review!


	6. Two Brothers

Chapter: Two Brothers

**Carver**

Being in the Wardens made Carver wistful about the times he spent hanging around with his brother, even if it was it in his shadows for the majority of his life. The constant vigilance at the Keep in Ansburg, accompanied by the myriad of companions often poking fun at him initially before the final acceptance of his Joining, wore him out so much that it often left him blissfully passed out on his small cot. Until his immediate Commander, Nathaniel Howe, gave him a much bigger bed to accommodate his larger form. As time passed, however, he found himself often sharing a bed with his Commander. The Wardens were indiscriminate in their bed partners. Some had an accord for just using each other for sex while others formed a much deeper bond, one of love and sentiment and all that rubbish.

His own cousin, Calvin Amell, had such a bond with a blonde warrior, the rumored Prince of Ferelden. Alistair was the name. Often times, in between the blood and the misery of Warden life, he would catch glimpses of tender moments shared between the two. The way they gazed at each other after each battle and around mealtimes as well.

When the pair had to leave for a secret mission, one which only Nathaniel knew about, Calvin had caught sight of him and took him aside for a good talk.

"_I hear that my doppelganger is wrecking havoc in Kirkwall, along with Anders."_

The Warden-Commander acted so like his brother that Carver had to take a few moments to convince himself that this dark-haired mage wasn't his brother. The only thing that helped him differentiate between the two tongue-in-cheek mages was the hair colour. No one could miss his brother's shock of fiery hair. Other than that, the two mages shared the same nose, the same eyes and cheekbones. The emerald eyes sparkled with laughter and Carver couldn't see any of the terrible pain that may have been lurking behind the mirth. So like his brother.

"_I also heard that you and Nate have become quite close. Good for the both of you."_

"_For him maybe. Bossing me around and such." _

Maker, he had never learned how to watch what he says to other people. He received a disapproving scowl from Calvin and Carver gulped, knowing that complaining about the Warden-Commander's 3IC was probably not a wise move.

"_Nathaniel Howe is a good man but he is also vulnerable to matters of the Heart. Do not toy with him in that way if this is one-sided."_

At that time, Carver couldn't come up with a smart reply to that stern command. He merely nodded and the Warden-Commander smiled at him before handing him two small trinkets.

_These are for you both. In times of great need, call and help shall come._

Carver was still befuddled by the cryptic remark and he took off his gauntlet to fish out the trinkets that was safely tucked away by his heart. They were both remarkable works of art, with intricate designs along the band. One ring bore a gem of deep sapphire while its counterpart bore a single emerald. How typical of a noble mage to choose gems that match the colour of the eyes.

It was thus easy to discern which ring was his and he placed the sapphire ring on his finger. A soft humm emanated from the ring and Carver felt a soothing sensation wash over him, as if the ring was providing him a shield of calm and protection from the harsh elements of Thedas.

"Carver? You alright?"

Ethan's question made his eyes snap open and Carver, slightly shocked at how easily his brother sneaked upon him, didn't answer for a second or two.

"Come on, brother. I know you're just that ecstatic to see me too but at least say something," Ethan jested but his eyes held genuine concern and already, his hands glowed with healing magic.

"Oooh is that what I think it is?" Ethan pointed at the sparkling sapphire gem and Carver blushed heavily while pulling his hand away from his brother's. The damage was done, however, and Ethan grinned mischeiviously before asking that dreaded question, "so, you and that man with a hooked nose together finally?"

"His name's Nate."

"Right, sure. Seeing as how you're not denying it, I'm happy for you two." Ethan's grin turned even wider and Carver groaned, knowing that his brother would constantly be asking questions about their bond or whatever it was. Just as Ethan let go of his hand and began to turn away from him, Carver remembered the ring that rightfully belonged to his brother and halted him with a hand on the shoulder.

"Here, our illustrious cousin of ours wanted you to have this," He said and he gave the ring to Ethan.

"Really? You met Calvin Amell?" Ethan's shock showed in his emerald eyes, the way they sparkled with delight and joy in the sun's rays.

"Yes, now just put on the damn ring and let's go. Your mage is looking at me funny."

Ethan's head turned and, just like what Carver said, Anders gave him a questioning glance before then being reassured by whatever Ethan was giving him.

"Good to know we're back to normal, ehh?" Ethan joked and he gave his brother a warm, tender smile before heading out to walk at the blonde mage's side.

-o0o-

The party was a drab, in Carver's honest opinion. He had never liked nobles and, unlike Ethan's natural talent in blending in with his peers, regardless of origins and lifestyle, Carver could never seem to find the right words to make the crowd laugh or cry. Instead, his audience would always cry or rant at him in anger before leaving his side. In fact, never did Carver miss his Warden family more than now. Surrounding by gaudy decorations and fake interest in himself as well as the blonde mage standing at his side, Carver grew bored of the festivities very quickly and began to wish that something exciting would happen. Unfortunately, he should have never known that wishes were always granted in ways not expected or desired by the wisher.

As it were, he had lost sight of both his brother and that strange elf they were helping. The absence of his brother was keenly felt when he saw them disappear with that young lord and Carver's eyes narrowed when they didn't return from the room they had entered a few seconds later. He was just about to investigate when he was suddenly accosted by another red-head.

"Carver, is it not? You are the Champion's brother."

"Uhh, yes," Carver replied and he tried to think up of ways to get past the redhead and follow in his brother's footsteps.

"I heard that you've joined the Wardens. How is it?"

"Look, lady," Carver got fed up with all the formalities and decided to be direct with the young lady.

"Leliana is the name and I know many things of you and you brother. I am sure you would be delighted to know that I know your cousin, Calvin."

"How? How do you know that?" His curiosity piqued by the red-head's intimate knowledge of their family history. His hand itched for the greatsword on his back only to remember in time that he had to set aside his weapon before being allowed into the party. Weapons were not permitted but, thanks to Ethan's magic, it was cleverly hidden from view. However, once he touched it, the weapon would show itself.

"Yes, he is a wonderful man, yes?"

"How should I know? I only heard stories about the man," Carver said, lying right through his teeth.

"Ah, mostly of him being ten feet tall and shooting lightning bolts? He is a powerful mage and a kind man."

"Err...I guess so."

Leliana laughed gently and she took his arm in hers. Carver could tell, just through the strong grip in her hand, that she was not to be underestimated in a battle of steel and will.

"Your brother will be fine, where ever he is."

Carver had no choice but to go with her and he had a feeling that she was actually helping him.

Before he knew it, the party ended and Leliana had disappeared, leaving him and Anders to their own devices. They had found themselves in one of the Duke's own guest rooms when a commotion rose up from the hall. Soldiers hurried down the long walkway and he was just about to tell the mage to gear up when the mage was already at the door, a staff in his hand. His hand glowed green and a brilliant green sigil of paralysis appeared at the doorway.

As soon as the sigil appeared, the door slammed open and one of the Duke's own guards charged in, shouting that he had found the Champion's cohorts. Before he could rush in with his greatsword, the poor guard became paralyzed and Carver, seeing as how his brother must have done something wrong here, quickly cut down the man.

More men spilled into the tiny room they were in and Carver easily dispatched them all. Once it was said and done, he donned on the rest of his armor and Anders looked very impressed. Pfftt. He wasn't here to impress his brother's lover. He was only here at his brother's behest.

"Ethan wasn't joking when he said that you can kill twenty men in one swing."

"No, he wasn't." Carver's voice was a little harsher than he intended but that's just how he was. Years of being bitter and resentful of his family's way of life couldn't be easily washed away by the new Warden life. However, he had finally found his purpose in life and it felt good.

"Let's go and see what sort of trouble my brother and that woman got into." Carver said and he lead the way, with Anders close beside him.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the guards that hindered their journey. It was the winding hallways and confusing walls that got them lost until finally they overhead a guard saying something about a pair of assassins rotting in prison like they deserved.

Anders had that worried look on his face and Carver wondered if that's how Nate must be looking right now. Worried and fraught with the need to find him in the darkness of their missions. The Commander's face, despite the stoic reputation of the man, was very expressive when it was just the two of them. Those hardened eyes would soften in their throes of passion and hands often gripped his shoulders in sheer desperation for release whenever he would take the man into his mouth. Other times, there would be a wolfish grin as the rogue would have something kinky up his sleeve. When Anders brought up his fantasy of his, being chained and rescued later on, Carver couldn't help but feel aroused at the memory of himself being chained and deliciously teased to climax.

But those feelings of passion and lust had no place in his thoughts right now as his brother was in danger and Carver strove to rescue him.

The rescue was not needed when they stumbled upon the other two laughing and talking, as if being imprisoned by a crazy Duke was just a daily thing in their life.

It was Anders who first expressed his concern for Ethan's health and his brother, instead of brushing aside his worries with the usual joke about his invincibility, cupped Anders' cheek for a brief second before pulling his hand away. Apparently, much has changed in the three years of his departure. Carver truly thought that no one could tame the wild and often reckless brother of his.

Tallis, for her part, blushed slightly before walking out ahead of them, apparently scouting out the area so as to avoid them walking into an ambush.

"C'me on, lovebirds. We have to move before the Duke decides to execute all of us." He had to say something to move the pair forward in their journey.

-o0o-

Nobles were so cocky and arrogant that they often forget their mortality in the midst of their schemes. Duke Prosper was the idle nobleman of such ignoble characteristics and Carver was glad to rid the world of his kind.

The battle was hard and drawn-out far longer than it should have. His own stamina, despite it having grown due to extensive training and experience fighting darkspawn, felt used up and he was almost at the end of his endurance when the wyvern, for some strange reason, targeted his brother.

He watched in horror as the giant lizard reared its head back and then consequently spit out its green saliva at Ethan. His brother, too busy fighting off a guard, looked up in time to see the green goo splatter all over his coat. _The venom is poisonous and doesn't need to be ingested to kill. _

The hunter's voice nagged Carver at the back of his mind and he charged at the wyvern, trying to distract the thing from attacking Ethan. Unfortunately, it was too late and the creature had already begun its charge.

A great firestorm rained down on the charging monstrosity but it didn't lessen nor detract the wyvern from its path. Carver readied his body for a quick charge, an improved Scythe, and hoped to the Maker that Ethan would move out of the way if he couldn't make it in time.

Thank goodness that, while his brother may make inane comments, Ethan was very intelligent in matters of tactics and magic. Thus, with relief in his heart, Carver saw how quickly his brother sidestepped, ducking underneath one of Duke Prosper's medium-length daggers.

The wyvern missed its target but couldn't veer away from its path. With a horrifying screech, the large reptilian creature fell over the cliff's edge, with its rider hanging on to the edge for dear life.

"Empress Celene will have your head for this! She'll come for you! I swear it!" The Duke hissed angrily, still refusing to acknowledge his defeat. Carver and Anders stared at each other, unsure of what to do with a man who just tried to kill them.

"I have a feeling that even _she_ condones such distasteful attempt in killing the Champion of Kirkwall." Ethan said in his usual sarcastic way, but Carver saw how dangerous his brother looked behind the mask of levity and sarcasm. Maybe Anders was the gentler one of the two. As if reading his mind, Anders glanced briefly at him before following after his younger brother.

The Duke was still hanging on by his fingers and Carver had a hunch that the Duke, were he to pull himself over the ledge, would attempt to finish them off. Thus, Carver pulled out his sword, a gift from his lover, to cut off the Duke's head.

He watched, with impassive eyes, as the Duke's headless body fell hard unto the rocks that lined the steep cliff. Good riddance.

-o0o-

**Ethan**

Thank the creators that's over with!

Ethan truly detested nobility and all the baggage that came with it. He now understood why his mother left Kirkwall in the first place, with his father leading her away from the gray drab of noble life. Sure, his mother would have been more well off with her family but at the cost of her happiness. In all honesty, despite their rise in status in the coastal city, his mother looked more happy in Lothering than in his new estate.

His heart clenched at the thought of his mother and father finally being together at last. He can almost hear his mother chide on him for his silliness while his father would root him on, to the good of all mages.

The orange-haired eldest son of the Hawkes had never wanted to be mired in the troubles of others but his heart wouldn't have it. Thus, he dedicated all of his life helping others, with and without his magic, a blessing in his personal opinions.

He despised the idea that magic was a curse, a belief too commonly embraced by the populace of Thedas. The only ones who could possibly outdo the Chantry in their treatment of mages were the Qunari and Ethan shuddered at the image of his Anders being chained and bound like that.

He had apparently stumbled over something and someone had caught his elbow in a steady grip. Startled at the physical contact, he quickly glanced up to see who it was and what he saw took his breath away.

"Father?"

No, his father was dead. He saw his father slain by the templar sword himself and in his grief, he had rained down a terrifying storm unto their heads. Whatever had happened afterwards, he couldn't remember. Only the pale, gasping visage of that proud face. _Never think your magic is a curse, my son...it is a blessing..._

"...shit...I think he's hallucinating..." his father said to him and Ethan emitted a pained moan as he was laid to rest on the soft, grassy knoll. Where were they? By the village? Surely father knew better than to leave behind the safety of their home.

"...Ethan...stay..."

"Father...where..." His body felt heavy and the world around him spun in sickening circles. He closed his eyes and that made the spinning sensation even worse. He opened his eyes and this time, it was Carver looking down at him with a worried frown etched on that face. Despite what Carver thinks of their father, he was the one who looked more like him than Ethan himself. However, the resemblance stopped there.

"...antidote...damn it...he's fading fast..." Carver shouted angrily but it sounded as if it was coming from a long distance. "...stay awake...Ethan!"

Where was Anders? Had he fallen? He needed to find his love. Ethan fought to stay awake and he struggled to get up, only to find himself caught in a tight grip. Carver was holding him down, but why?

"...Anders?..."

But the mage did not come to him and Ethan feared the worst. Was Anders gone? Had this merry trip been a dream after all and he would wake up to find himself alone in the Amell estate?

_Rest, son. It is all you can do._

That voice! Ethan feebly turned his head round to look for the owner of that familiar voice.

_It's alright...we will guard your dreams, our son._

A wave of calm overcame him and, against his will, Ethan's world darkened.

-o0o-

"_What is the first rule of magic, Ethan?"_

"_To protect those who can't protect themselves."_

"_Good. What is the second rule?"_

"_See the first rule?" It was a half-assed answer. Instead of a reprimand from his father though, he received a soft chuckle and a shake of the head._

"_Yes, son. There is no second rule."_

_The tall, prominent figure stood well above him but Ethan loved his father, more than he loved himself in fact. Fear held no place in his heart and Ethan giggled as Malcolm lifted him in the air before being brought tight to his chest._

"_Remember, son. No matter how hard times are, we are always with you."_

Ethan gasped and his eyes snapped open. He found himself laying not on the hard ground but on his large and comfortable bed. Blankets were gathered around his lower torso and legs, rumpled and sweaty.

Was it all a dream? How long had he lain here?

A quiet whimper caught his attention and he glanced over to the side of his bed, his body too heavy to move just yet to confirm that his faithful Mabari was indeed sitting on the floor, at his bedside. Kain looked up at him and tilted his head in question.

"...where..."

The sound of a door opening drew his eyes away from his Mabari to the person walking into his room and Ethan felt so relieved to see Anders strolling in, a small trap held between his hands. The taller mage gifted him such a beloved smile that it made his heart lift at the sight.

"Love, you're awake," Anders said in a tender voice. The healer set the tray down on a small bedside table and he sat down on the small space on Ethan's bed. A slender hand cupped his cheek and Ethan couldn't help but let out a hapless moan when healing magic seeped into his cheek. By the Maker, it shouldn't be thought of as a sexual action but Ander's healing always made him feel light-headed and aroused.

"What happened? How did I get here?"

"You don't remember?" Anders gave him a puzzled frown and Ethan sat up, wincing in pain as he did so.

"Not really. Just battling that ugly pet of the Duke and him falling from grace." Ethan never gave up joking, even when heavily injured. Well, that near-death incident with the Arishok was the exception. He had won, fallen unconscious immediately at Meredith's feet, and then slept for a few days.

The fiery mage would have continued joking but two things stopped his would-be rant – pain and Anders' very worried look of concern.

"Sweetheart, you very nearly died this time. When you collapsed virtually in Carver's arms and started hallucinating, I knew we had little time in giving you that antidote."

"What? I don't hallucinate. And besides, hallucinating is the final stage of that wyvern's poison...ohh,"

The realization of just how close he was to passing into the Fade, permanently so, dawned on Ethan. No wonder Anders was so worried about him.

Anders rubbed his cheek, healing magic still absorbing into his skin. Already he left better. He now saw one Anders instead of three, although the thought of a threesome with another Anders certainly wouldn't be entirely disagreeable with Ethan.

"Tallis remembered where she could find the herbs in time for me to concoct something for you," Anders continued and he started spoon-feeding his convalescing lover.

"What happened to her? Is she still with us?"

The blonde mage let out a snort of disapproval at that and Ethan remembered his wild flirtations with the elfin Tal-vashoth member. No wonder Anders looked so happy to see her gone now.

"You know me, darling," Ethan said in a serious tone. "I may be the flirtatious lover but _you_ are the one who will forever hold my heart and my soul."

It was quite a profound statement coming from the roguish mage and Anders kissed him hard before suddenly pulling back and then apologizing for hurting him in the process. All the healer got was a wolfish grin and Ethan pulled him closer to kiss him again, a passionate one that conveyed everything Ethan was feeling to his lover.

"Are you sure, love?" Anders murmured, his breath washing over his own lips. It smelled of mint and chamomile. Anders was always so hygienic, despite having lived in Darktown for several years ago, and Ethan felt very dirty compared to him.

"I dunno. I don't exactly smell too wonderful..." Ethan let out a nervous laugh but his eyes averted from Anders' inquisitive gaze.

"Actually, I sort of took the liberty in washing your body. It has been several days and the body heals better when it's clean and washed."

"And you didn't wake me? Such a shame!" Ethan cried out indignantly before gasping in pleasure as Anders' hand cupped him through the satin pants. He moaned when a single finger trailed along the underside of his burgeoning erection.

"Yes...a shame..." Anders whispered in his ear before sharply nipping that enticing earlobe and receiving another low moan. By the Maker, the man in his arms was just too good for him to keep but he will keep him close, for as long as he lives. _He's a good man and no one will take him from us, neither demon or man._ Justice became quiet then, as if content in letting Anders be in control again.

He will have to take this slow, seeing as how Ethan tried valiantly to hide his winces every time he moved. Yes, slow, tender lovemaking and Anders started it by gently kissing along the side of his lover's jaw, all the way down to the belly button. He stopped short of reaching the hard member, despite it having grown turgid and standing proud next to his cheek. Hands threaded through his hair quite urgently, as if Ethan was begging him to taking him in. No, he much rather hear him say 'please' or 'more.' It was much more enticing that way.

Thus, he completely ignored the straining flesh and nibbled on the inside of a silky thigh. A heartfelt groan was heard and Anders looked up, only to find misty eyes gazing back at them. Love shone from those dazed orbs and it weakened his resolve to make his lover wait for it. Anders sucked on the glans, relishing in the tiny whimper he got for his action. The whimper became a breathless gasp of his name as Anders happily swallowed him in, his tongue delicately serving as a soft pillow for his member to rest on. Fingers clawed on his shoulders, grasping desperately at the feather paldrons. The light, gray dappled feathers loosened and fell from his coat, until they winded up on the bed, on his lover's thighs. Ethan's breath hitched when a single feather rested on his flushed organ and Anders smirked slyly at his lover's response. He stored away the view _and_ the idea for a later time. Right now, all the rebel mage wanted was to please his lover, to drive him to the heights of ecstasy and then sew him back together in the aftermath.

Ethan groaned at the sudden loss of warmth between his legs and he reached for Anders when the blonde kissed him, passionately. Where did this come from? This passion, this fervent lust that took his lover by the storm.

He was about to ask Anders if he was alright when the mage undressed before him. Pale hands undid the fittings and buckles of his coat and breeches until Anders bared himself to his eyes.

Despite having lived together for six years, the vision of Anders' slender body in its all naked glory still left him breathless and in awe. Anders' body, honed by years of fighting and being on the run, was slender and lean, with broad shoulders and strong chest that all tapered down to a slim waist. Light red hairs trailed down from his chest to the rigid organ that stood proud and tall between his legs. The younger mage espied a layer of liquid covering the tip and his mouth watered at the alluring sight.

His heart leapt into his throat, rendering him speechless, when Anders took himself in his hand and stroked it. _Damn tease!_

Anders smirked at him and, just when Ethan was about to reach for his own neglected erection, the older mage reached out and gently held it against the silken sheets, near his head.

"I love you, Ethan," Anders whispered so softly, so tenderly in his ear, "and my world will darken should you leave me."

"Anders-" another kiss interrupted him and Ethan submitted to Ander's will as he let out a heartfelt moan.

As both men lost themselves in each other, neither noticed the emerald ring glowing ephemerally for a few seconds before softly reverting back to normal.

-o0o-

**Carver**

It took a while but eventually the lone Grey Warden made his way back to Ansburg Keep. The memories of the happy times, albeit brief, with his brother and friends, lessened the weight of his duties that awaited him.

As he walked to the entrance and being given a cursory nod of permission to enter, Carver couldn't help but smile at how, despite all the hardships he and his brother endured, it would be all right in the end. As long as they each had that someone to guide them and to pull them away from the wrong path, the Hawke brothers would be just fine.

"The Warden-Commander would like to see you, Carver," a high-pitched voice spoke out to him and the young man looked up, only to see a young man clad in the heaviest plate armor. It saddened at how young the speaker was. The slight red blush of youth upon the man's cheeks as well as the innocence that somehow lingered behind those bright blue eyes told Carver that this person couldn't be older than twenty or so.

"Thank you, Bran," was all Carver said and he gave the lad a small smile of approval before heading off into the direction of the main office.

It was closed and he just had half a thought to burst in when he heard another voice, softer and very familiar, speaking to the Warden-Commander.

"...the mission went well?"

"Yes, but we've to be away for some time," another man murmured in low tones, as if not wanting to be overheard.

"Both of you? How in the Black City am I supposed to take charge? You've been Warden-Commander a lot longer than I!"

The other man's voice was husky and even now stirred something deep within Carver's loins.

"You'll be fine, Nate; you're not like your father and it's why I put you in charge in Amaranthine first before here."

"Amaranthine was normal. This place just feels _wrong_."

"Alistair and I need to find someone before it's too late and _that_ someone is no longer here in the Free Marches. They both move very quickly, for centuries' old men."

"You don't mean..."

A pause and Carver found himself leaning against the door, wanting to hear more of this mystery. Unfortunately, the door wasn't locked in place and it gave way to Carver's significant weight of muscles and heavy armor.

He fell forward, unto his knees, and quickly stood up, abashed and ashamed of himself for rudely interrupting a covert meeting between the two highest ranking officers of all of the Wardens in the eastern part of Thedas.

Calvin, for his part, did not look happy at all for the interruption. However, the disapproving scowl was immediately replaced by an intrigued expression and then a wide smile. The sudden changes in the mage's mannerisms confounded Carver and he wondered how Nathan could deal with this guy every day.

"Ah yes," Calvin said and he offered Carver a hand up. The mage did not wince or even used two hands to lift Carver off the ground. "I take it Orlais was as grand as the stories tell it?"

The jest was clear in the mage's voice and Carver couldn't help but scoff in reply, a second-nature response to the joking mannerisms of his brother.

"Well, perhaps I should leave you two alone, hmm? Especially considering how lonely Nathan's been," the mage snickered and he disappeared into thin air, just in time to allow a knife fly through him and into the door behind Carver.

"I swear," Nathan groused, fingers rubbing the side of his temple, "he shows up only to make jokes at my expense."

"Only because he knows how well you take it," Carver snorted and then the warrior blushed at what he just said.

The remark caused the rogue to snap his head up and regard him coolly.

"And just how well do you think I can take it, Carver?" Nathan crowded him until his back hit the door, the combined weight of the two men forcing it closed. The door clicked and Carver was about to ask if the door was locked this time when Nathan leaned down and pressed his lips against his.

A few moments were spent just sharing each other's breaths and Carver found himself virtually breathless when Nathan pulled away, a wolfish gin etching that proud Howe face.

"I think the question for you," Nathan continued saying as he skillfully unbuckled Carver's armor until the pieces fell to the ground with an audible thud, "is how well will you be able to walk after I'm done with you?"

Three candlelights later, both men lay strewn across each other on the large bed, one of the many privileges of being the Warden- Commander and his lover. Carver placed his head on the warm chest and he let out a pleased 'hmm' sound at the fingers threading through his sweaty locks.

"I don't think I can move," Carver groused and laughter rumbled deep within that broad chest before a hand lifted his chin up.

"That was the whole point, wasn't it?" Nathan whispered and he gifted Carver a small smile. The sight of it warmed Carver's heart and, despite his exhaustion, all the warrior wanted to do was to make love to this man who had stolen his heart. In peace, Vigilance, Carver thought as he closed his eyes and kissed his lover. _And Love._

-FIN-

A/N: Just a little chappie to pass the time while I try to finish up WOH and TLA. Comment if you like (or don't) and the next few chappies will be to finally answer the few requests I've received earlier.


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